An open letter to Pat Caraway:

Dear Mr. Caraway:

I how dare you attack my education.  Yes, I may not be schooled in Greek
or Latin or mathematics, but I am hard working and not intimidated by
young men who lack manners.  Further, I dare you to try to hit me with
one of your pitchers.  You see, I know that I am a man of few talents,
but I do shovel manure well.  I suppose that is why the good Lord made
me: to shovel manure for professional athletes such as yourself. 
Hauling manure is not always pleasant; sometimes it can be done right
disagreeable.  However, it is honest work and I realize and accept my
limitations.  You, sir, have failed to recognize the fact you are a 
poor pitcher.  The only honorable course of action for you is to leave
baseball and find a station in life which will allow you an opportunity
to use your talents.  

Some of among us have  the gift to write, like Sir Walter Scott; some
have the gift of intellect, like the German physicist Albert Einstein,
and others, like myself, can only shovel manure.  There is nothing to 
be ashamed of because you, like me, can not pitch effectively in the
majors.  I grant that you have atleast made the majors, but I would
rather be a lowely manure shoveling man than a God-awful DBS pitcher.  

Throughout history men, such as yourself, have over estimated their
talents and ability to overcome natural limitations. For example,
Napoleon failed to conquer Russia because his ego overtook his 
intellect (besides long lines of communications, the Austrians, etc).  
So, my good man, please recognize that you are a poor pitcher and leave the DBS. 
Move somewhere warm and sunny, perhaps San Francisco, where you can 
find a talent to serve mankind.